


The Old Song and Dance

by citrinesunset



Category: White Collar
Genre: Discipline, Other, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal goes behind Peter's back and has to be punished. But he wouldn't be Neal if he didn't make things a <i>little</i> difficult for Peter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Old Song and Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short ficlet I wrote for [](http://cookielaura.livejournal.com/profile)[**cookielaura**](http://cookielaura.livejournal.com/)'s [Five Acts Meme](http://cookielaura.livejournal.com/40439.html). Also, I might try to use this as my wildcard for kink_bingo, too. We'll see!

The thing was, Neal didn't mind getting spanked _that_ much.

Which wasn't to say that he _liked_ it. Pain had never been his thing, and when Peter did it, there was no doubt that it was a punishment.

But he could deal with it. Though it may have run counter to the lesson Peter hoped to teach, letting Peter spank him appealed to his instinct to flout official procedure and avoid the less pleasant authority of the Marshals and the DOJ. Getting put across Peter's knee was far preferable to having his radius reduced to a city block, which was probably what would happen if Peter used the official channels to deal with him. Peter might have talked a lot about following the rules, but when it came to Neal, he made his own rules more than he admitted.

And Peter was the only authority Neal actually cared about. If this was how Peter wanted to deal with him, and it meant Neal's greyer actions stayed out of official reports, then that was fine by him.

But he and Peter had their song and dance, and Neal wasn't about to deviate from it. He did have his pride. And besides, if Neal acquiesced too quickly, Peter would be suspicious. Or he'd think the punishment didn't have enough of an effect on him, and decide to use stronger techniques.

So when Peter picked him up outside an office building in downtown Manhattan and dragged him straight to Brooklyn, Neal delayed the inevitable.

"Peter, is this really necessary?"

"Did you break into a suspect's office to look for evidence?"

"The guard let me in. There was no breaking."

"Did you con the guard into letting you in?"

"That would depend on your definition of 'con.'"

Peter's eyes narrowed. "I think you've answered your own question." He patted his knee. "Come on. Let's get this over with. I'm on my lunch hour, here."

Peter was sitting on the sofa and Neal was standing a safe distance away, just out of reach.

"It's not my problem you decided this couldn't wait."

"Neal...."

Neal sighed. "All right. Fine." He stepped forward.

"Drop your trousers."

Neal took off his jacket and carefully laid it over the back of a chair. He took his time undoing his belt and flies. Peter pursed his lips and squirmed with impatience.

"Now the boxers."

His gaze shot up. "Are you kidding me?"

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Does it look like I'm kidding?"

Neal stalled. "Maybe we should talk about this more."

"Okay. Should we talk about what could have happened if I wasn't the one who caught you today? How that would have jeopardized our case, not to mention your safety?"

"No," Neal said, swallowing, "I think you've sufficiently covered that."

"Then let's drive the point home and get it over with."

With a louder, more exaggerated sigh, Neal pushed his boxers to his knees along with his pants. He tried to not rush to Peter's side and bend over his lap. He didn't want to seem embarrassed about having his pants down.

Once he was in position, Peter patted and rubbed his bottom. "See? A lot easier once you're in position. You always have to draw it out, don't you?"

Neal was very glad Peter couldn't see his face. He told himself that if his face was red, it was just from the blood rushing to his head, and not from Peter giving his ass a friendly pat.

"Can we just get this over with?"

Peter scoffed. "Oh, _now_ you're in a hurry."

The first slap made Neal jump despite himself. By the time he could process it, Peter had already spanked him three more times in rapid succession.

"Ow! Take it easy, would you?"

Peter ignored him and didn't let up. Damn, how did the man stay so strong? Didn't this hurt his hand?

"If you're not careful," Neal said, raising his voice above the sharp sound of the slaps on his bare ass, "you're going to hurt your hand."

"Thank you for your concern, Neal," Peter said dryly. "I think I'll take the risk."

"Don't mention it. Just...ow!"

Neal squirmed on Peter's lap, even though his rational mind knew there was no escape from the onslaught.

This part wasn't put on. The spanking really _did_ hurt, in a way he never seemed to remember except subconsciously. Whenever he did something he knew Peter would disapprove of, there was an intangible memory that he didn't want to find himself in this position, but the actual experience always took him by surprise. Neal squeezed his eyes shut and silently tried to count, but Peter was spanking him too fast for that. There was no way to distract himself, nothing to do but ride it out.

It seemed unfair in a way. Even in prison, he could distract himself with imaginary cons and daydreams about priceless Monets. But Peter had a way of commanding every ounce of his attention when he wanted to.

Neal let out a low groan, and a moment later, Peter stopped. He didn't say anything, or let Neal stand. Neal could feel Peter's stomach expand as he took deep breaths—the only sign he showed of his exertion.

Peter rubbed his bottom again, gently, but this time his calloused hand made Neal twitch. His bottom was so tender, it was hard to believe he'd be able to sit on it when Peter took him back to work. Though, he knew from experience that the soreness never lasted as long as he expected.

"I hope you remember this for a while," Peter said.

"Oh, I won't forget."

"Good, good. I do this for your sake, you know."

Neal was growing aware of the cool air on his bare skin. He shivered.

"I know." Then, after some hesitation, he said, "I'm sorry I worried you."

"I know you are," Peter said, softly.

After a spanking, there was no use putting up a front anymore. For one thing, it wasn't allowed. Neal had learned the hard way that if Peter thought he hadn't learned his lesson, he'd just spank him more. An appropriately subdued mood sent the right impression.

But also, Neal felt bare, literally and figuratively. When he was over Peter's knee, getting his bottom and back rubbed after a spanking, he didn't think he could bring himself to lie if he wanted to. If Peter could see him like this, then for a short while, it was like there was nothing left to hide.

That was strangely soothing.

Finally, Peter said, "All right, if you've learned your lesson, you can get up now."

Neal awkwardly stood up and shook himself out of his reverie. He fumbled with his pants.

Glancing up at Peter, he said, "Think there's any chance I could take the rest of the afternoon off?"

"Don't push it."

"Or I can go back to the office."

Peter nodded. "I want you in my sight today. Besides, you still owe me three reports from last week."

"Reports? Seriously, Peter?"

Peter smiled mischievously. "If you'd rather stay here a while longer, my hand isn't too tired yet...."

Neal resisted the urge to rub his backside. "No, I don't mind doing the reports."

Peter stood up and patted Neal on the shoulder. "That's what I thought."

Neal stifled a dramatic sigh. If his younger self could have predicted that he'd come to this—letting Peter Burke _spank_ him and then foist reports on him, he was pretty sure he would have fled far, far away.

But in reality...it wasn't so bad.  



End file.
